


One Step in the Right Direction

by anglophileprussian



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Related, M/M, Mid Season 2 Divergence, Misunderstandings, Not Canon Compliant, Rogue 1 Speculation, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8126146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anglophileprussian/pseuds/anglophileprussian
Summary: For the Rebellion to really become a threat, they’re going to need help from someone with a better understanding of how to fight - and win. Zeb was not expecting that help to come from Agent Kallus.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I began this midway through season 2, and am posting it now to get a few hours before my theories are blown to shreds. May be influenced by events in season 3, but i will be keeping it distinctly AU.

Although it had never really been Zeb’s intention, Kallus had taken the meteorite as a gift. As one who was not accustomed to receiving gifts, Kallus was abnormally determined to return the favor. 

At first it was rather literal. The first scrimmage against the empire since Geonosis had ended with another softly glowing rock on the ramp. There hadn’t been in any sign of Agent Kallus, or anyone higher ranking than a stormtrooper guard, but it was waiting for them when they returned from their failed scouting mission. 

“It looks radioactive,” Kanan warns as Zeb picks it up. It’s small enough to fit in his palm, and even warmer than he remembers. 

Ezra tries to steal it away. “Someone must have dropped it. Let me see” 

Zeb swallows the discomfort that comes with knowing something he hasn’t shared with his crew. They wouldn’t believe him if he tried to explain that it’s a sign of something to come. Of course, Kallus hasn’t bothered to tell him what exactly he should be waiting for. 

 

It was becoming increasingly obvious that someone does not want the rebels to find themselves a new base. And those someones keep beating them planetside. It is tempting to blame Kanan and Ezra but they’re clearly as frustrated as the rest of the crew. That of course doesn’t stop Sabine and Zeb from making a few cracks here and there. 

Their newest ambush was on a planet mostly made of rocks and sand. There was one settlement by the largest body of water they’d been hoping could get them some supplies. The two inquisitors waiting for them at the landing bay when they tried to get back to their ship weren’t even much of a surprise. 

“I’ll stay and help- you get everything onto the ship,” Zeb orders, pushing Hera and Chopper behind him. Kanan and Ezra were trying to hold off the Inquisitors on their own, but they couldn’t also keep away the stormtroopers as well. 

Backing away to draw their fire, Zeb ducked between the other ships and started off running. The sound of shots and lightsaber swings followed him even as he moved between crates and cargo. Just as the sound began to fade away behind him, something smacked him in the back of the neck. 

“Don’t shoot- oww. I said don’t shoot.”

A few paces ahead of him stood a figure, shorter and slighter than him. From head to feet it was covered in dark green robes, face entirely obscured. In its hands was an extended virboblade with one end reaching towards the side of his head. 

“Why should I listen to you?” 

The figure lowered its weapon and sighed loudly. “Are all rebels this touchy? I was just trying to get your attention.”

“Well you’ve got it. What do you want?”

“I come bearing news, if you’ve got a moment.”

“Maybe.” Zeb finally lowers his gun. “Depends what it is.” 

“I’ve been sent on behalf of someone with an offer of information. And a gift.” The figure reaches down with exaggerated slowness, taking something out from a pouch on their belt. “I’m going to toss this at your feet. It is not a weapon.”

A small, glowing meteorite lands at Zeb’s feet and of everything he’s feeling, none of it is surprise. 

 

“What is it about a glowing rock that made you trust me?” 

Zeb had wisely rescheduled their meeting. Whatever it is that Kallus was doing, it was better done when they weren’t about to be run off planet. Dex Vern, Kallus’ chosen courier, had amiably agreed to meet again on his terms. 

Dex, it seemed, was a smuggler who was used to sending messages for imperial agents. At least mostly humanoid, they had taken off their hood to reveal a long braid of hair and eyes masked by dark paint. When Zeb ordered a drink, Dex had added theirs to Zeb’s tab. 

“It’s just a meteorite.”

“I suppose it must mean something to you but I honestly don’t care. Do you know Elyan?”

“Yes,” Zeb admits. He did not know the name - perhaps it was Kallus’ name. Or something the intelligence agent had made up entirely. The rock was the only calling card Zeb would need because Kallus knew it would make him listen. 

“Do you trust him?”

“Sometimes.”

Dex extends their long legs out from under the table and slouches in their chair. “He’s send a tape for you, if you agree.”

“Agree to what?”

“To take it.” 

It wasn’t much of a deal at all then. Kallus just giving away information didn’t make any sense. “Did he tell you why?”

“He told me you would ask. But all he gave me was the rock and the holodisk.” 

The stupid rock was warm in his pocket. He takes it into his hand and holds it in his palm for a moment before saying, “I’ll take it.” 

Dex stands up with their drink, and takes out something from under their skirt. Places the tape on the table between them along with a thin metal card.

“The next time I have something for you, I’ll send you the coordinates where to meet. But don’t ask me to get involved with your rebellion: I have no interest in dying a martyr, no matter what the cause.” 

“Good to know,” Zeb grumbles as turns and disappears into the crowd. He takes the time to finish both of their drinks before he goes.


	2. Chapter 2

The native citizens who had been forced to work in the imperial outpost were more than happy to help the rebels take back their village. Perhaps Kallus had known when he suggested it - Zeb wouldn’t put it past the man to have thought of everything. With the Ron’i people behind them, they manage to take both the base and the supply ship within the day.

“That was quite a tip you got there,” Kanan compliments as they all push fuel barrels onto the Ghost. The supplies already on the ship were being flown to the rest of the fleet by Sabine and Ezra. Hera, arguing with the rebel leaders, has had to share the news that while they had won an impressive victory, the planet was not suitable as a home base.

“It was luck really.”

“We should all be so lucky.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Zeb watches Kanan move away towards Hera again. He is still not comfortable lying to his friends but, until he can come up with some way of explaining where he’s getting his new information, he’s going to have to learn to manage.

  


It’s almost a week later - two run-ins with Inquisitors, one strike against an imperial outpost, and half the hull dark from cannon fire - that the card he keeps hidden in his bunk shows coordinates. He’s in luck: they are for a town not too far from where they’ve been hiding out, avoiding the recent increase in imperial patrols. It’s easy to make an excuse and he heads out just as the second sun sets.

He’s unsurprised to find he’s being lead to another crowded bar. Looking around as soon as he comes in, it’s not hard to recognize the green cloaked figure by one of the gambling tables.

“What would your boss think, if he knew you were out here gambling away your pay?” Zeb asks them as he approaches.

“As if he doesn’t already know.” They flip a card onto the table, and it elicits curses from the other beings around them. A Rodian calls the end of the game, and the credits are pushed into Dex’s lap with obvious resentment. Dex shands and, whispering so only Zeb can hear, says “Let’s get out of here before they noticed I cheated.”

Zeb is steered towards an empty table and pushed into the seat as Dex makes some comment about getting the first round. A moment later, they appear with several cups and mugs hugged to their chest.

“I come bearing gifts.”

“Something better than this, I hope.” Zeb grimaces at the assortment of liquor chosen.

“Of course. I don’t come all the way out here for nothing. Another tape for you, straight from the man himself,” Dex announces with a flourish, raising a class.

“What do you know about your boss anyways?”

Dex shrugs, and downs an entire mug of something brightly colored. “He’s Imperial. Nicer than some of the other Agents: I’ve known people who got stuck with real slave drivers. Doesn’t mind my taking a bit of creative license now and then.”

“You’ve been working for him long?”

“It’s been a while now. I even got to meet him once.” They down another drink.

“Once?”

“He’s got better things to do than hang around places like this,” Dex says, waving their arm around the crowded bar for emphasis.

Zeb takes one of the drinks and, tentative, takes a sip. It tastes like spicy cleaning product and he almost chokes before slowly swallowing it down. “And you just run errands for him?”

“It’s a little fancier than that, but not by much,” Dex admits. Apparently becoming affected by the drinks, they allow their cloak to fall down one shoulder and their head to loll and little. “Most of the imperial intelligence agents have their own pet smuggler, running around and doing their dirty work.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It’s better than a lot of other jobs. And better still than being dead.” The emphatic look tells Zeb clearly what they thinks of his decision to join the Rebellion.

“Speaking of that,” Zeb says, “when I’m giving all this information to my friends, who am I supposed to say I’m getting it from?”

Down goes yet another oddly colored drink. “How should I know?”

“I have to tell them something. I was thinking I could give them your name-”

Dex’s eyes turn hard, and their hand falls loudly to the table. “What did I say about involving me in your stupid Rebellion? You gotta come up with something else, because I-”

There’s a shout, suddenly, from across the room. The Rodian handling the pazaak table was waving a card in the air and shouting at its companions. Dex, patting their sides, stands up abruptly from the table, drink still in hand.

“I think this is a sign that I should be heading out. The tape is under the table. Just remember to keep me out of this.”

After a few firm pokes to the arm for emphasis, Dex Vern turns and in an instant has disappeared into the crowd again, only appearing in sudden flashes of green. Zeb, as he’s checking the floor by his feet, sees several pairs of boots rush by on their way to the door. The tape, as promised, is stuck to the underside of the table. With the problem of lying to his friends only heavier on his mind, Zeb leaves a few minutes afterward.  
  


<< _”I saw the reports. It seems you were successful. Well done._

_“As I suspected, the Empire considered Belderone a lost cause, and has no plans on recapturing the outpost. I’m afraid that it will be of no use to you as a home base, but you caught the freighter as well. That should make up for any possible disappointment._

_“I have also seen reports of the recent scrimmages between the Rebel fleet and a group of Tie Pilots. I hope this does not continue, because the Tie Squadron commander has taken it personally. It is likely he has plans for their next encounter, so they must be more careful. >> _

Zeb sticks the blank tape into his pocket and leaves the cargo bay. Ezra, after a whole day of training with Kanan, would not stop complaining about how tired he was, until eventually both Zeb and Sabine had fled to quieter parts of the ship. And considering Ezra wasn’t always a heavy sleeper, it had seemed like the best time to listen to his next message.

This message was as strange as the last one, though at least it was more straightforward. Agent Kallus - he was always using “you”. “You caught the freighter.” “You were successful.” What did he mean by talking like that? Shaking his head of the thought, Zeb finds the others and sits down with them.

“How was your trip to town?” Kanan asks.

The thing is - Zeb hates lying to his friends because he’s bad at it. And if he wants to be able to pull this off (whatever this was exactly) he was going to need to find a way to lie and make them believe it. Which is why he says:

“An Imp recognized me.”

“What?” Hera, Sabine, and Kanan all turn to face him. They’re worried for him: it makes everything that much worse.

“They said they knew I was part of the Rebellion.”

Hera looks grim. “How did you escape?”

“I didn’t. They said that they were looking to sell information on the Empire from the inside.”

“You’re kidding. You were recognized by some kind of traitor?”

“What did you say?” asks Sabine.

Trying not to appear as uncomfortable as he feels, Zeb shrugs. “I asked what their price was, of course. But all they wanted was a ticket out when things started to get bad.”

“It’s a trap,” Hera says.”They’re probably tracking us right now.”

“I don’t know. But they gave me something for free, to prove we could trust them.”

“So now we’re just going to listen to an Imperial. Great idea.” Kanan rolls his eyes. “And who is this ‘traitor’ anyways?”

“Their name... is Dex Vern.” Zeb swallows and hopes he doesn’t come to regret this.  


	3. Chapter 3

It is hard for his large fingers to find the button to turn down the volume, but Zeb will not turn on the tape until he is certain no one else will hear it. Unlike a normal holodisk, it does nothing but play audio. He spends several minutes reassuring himself that he is alone, and no one is around, before daring it turn it on.

<< _”This message will erase itself upon completion. This will ensure that it cannot fall into enemy hands” >> _

Zeb pauses it instinctively upon hearing Kallus’ voice again. He had already forgotten what it sounded like when it wasn’t cruel or angry - just calm and normal. After a moment of silence, he turns it on again.

 <<” _You asked me about Geonosis. I have not forgotten what you said but- … investigations such as these take time. And discretion, something you’re not quite as familiar with, is key. But I have not forgotten._

_“I was provided with a substantial amount of time to think as I had to wait 2 days to be rescued. I do not mention this as an attempt to get your sympathy: I simply want you to understand that I have had ample time to consider what I am to do. And, perhaps against your own wishes, you have become involved with my plans continuing forward._

_“The information I will give you is genuine. I expect you to use it. But there will be times when, in order to maintain my position within the Empire, you will need to agree to certain sacrifices. I can only hope that you will see the benefit in the long run. I would not have thought you capable before but now-... well, we will see what happens._

_“There is a small outpost on the southern rim of the planet Belderone, in the Outer Rim, which has been considered for many years the least interesting imperial post in the Galaxy. A ship is coming to resupply the outpost. Someone interested could easily overtake the ship while it is docked on planet and take advantage of these resources._

_“Best of luck.” >>_

The tape goes silent and he lets it drop onto his bunk. He covers his face with one hand and sighs, turning to his side to consider.

If someone as important as Kallus has decided to turn spy, than the rebellion might actually have a chance at defeating the empire. And if a little kindness was all it took to turn over a senior intelligence agent - they’d beat them in a week. But if Kallus was lying and this was a trick- … was Zeb really so foolish as to actually believe him? Believe someone who had chosen to take credit for the massacre of his people?

There was only one way to tell if Kallus was telling the truth: send someone to that base. But was he really that stupid? He climbed out of his bunk and headed towards the cockpit. Hera, sitting in the pilot’s seat and alone, turned her head to acknowledge him as he came in.

“What are you doing awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

She didn’t ask for anything else and let him stand there, looking out into open space for a few minutes, waiting for him to speak. Eventually he said, unable to hide his hesitance:

“I was thinking- I was in a bar planetside, and I heard some Imps talking. One of them mentioned this planet I’d never heard of, Belderone. Every heard of it?”

“Outer Rim right? Used to be a lot of spice mining there before it all went dry. Why?”

“He mentioned a base there; called it the “worst post in the empire”. Apparently they send their worst recruits out there.”

“And?”

“He was part of the crew running supplies there. Should be restocked by next week.”

She turned fully to face him, realizing where he was going with it, “Might be worth a visit.”

She’s already pulled up the rebel reports to see who is close enough to the system to take advantage. It would only be a matter of time before he knew if he was making the right choice.


	4. Chapter 4

The leaders of the Rebellion are not impressed by Zeb.

Despite his prior experience, he’s always known that he’s mostly seen as just a part of the Ghost crew. Now that he has come to their attention, they are far from happy to hear he’s been making deals on behalf of the Rebellion.

“You have compromised our entire mission!” Commander Sato accuses. “You have put everyone in danger.”

“Now we don’t know that yet,” Hera warns. Although she had been angry on the ship, upon joining with the rest of the rebel fleet she had taken up defending Zeb.

“So you think we should just wait and find out?”

“No. But there has to be a way to test if the information Zeb was given is real, without putting anyone at risk.”

Zeb takes that moment to interject. “Phoenix Squadron is in danger. If there’s even a chance something might happen, they shouldn’t go.”

Sato turns to face Zeb and points an accusing finger. “And what if that’s exactly what they want us to do?”

“Do what? They’re telling us not to do something.”

Sato has no response to that, and changes the subject. “What are we supposed to think now that you’ve gotten yourself captured by an Imperial? How did they find you.”

Of course, he cannot mention that he was the one doing the finding. “They got lucky. But so did we. If this checks out, we’ve finally got a big advantage over the Empire.”

“I agree with Zeb,” Kanan says. Zeb’s thankful feeling disappears as Kanan continues to speak. “But I also agree with Commander Sato. There’s something funny about this. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“The best thing we can do right now is send out Phoenix Squadron as planned. We’ll just send a few more ships out as backup just in case.”

After a few more minutes of squabbling, Sato has no choice but to agree with Hera’s plan. If this works, Zeb reminds himself, then they’ll have access to information from Kallus and they can finally start making a difference. This is something he has been reminding himself more and more frequently the last few days, as the lies start getting worse.

 

Kallus has come through again. When Phoenix Squadron is confronted with ten times the usual amount of TIE fighters, Zeb can’t help but feel a bit of smug satisfaction.

“Looks like they’re going to need our help after all,” he announces, and heads to his gun. He can feel them watching him as he goes away.

 

“It seems like your new informant was right. We could have lost a lot of fighters today.” Hera’s voice rings with satisfaction, proud on Zeb’s behalf for their victory today. It makes Zeb feel a little less uneasy about all of the lying he’s been doing.

Kanan even stops forward to pat his shoulder. “You did the right thing, Zeb. We really need as many reliable informants as possible if we’re going to do any damage to the Empire.”

“We still have to make sure that there is no possibility that this is a plot against us,” Sato reminds them.

“It’s a risk we’re going to have to take, sir,” Kanan insists. “We can’t let this go to waste.”

Sato sighs, but concedes. “Of course. But there are other things to keep in mind: we need you and your crew to find us some more fuel. As always, we’re running low on supplies and we could use your help.”

The conversation moves away, and Zeb finally breathes a little easier. When he gets back to his bunk and sees yet another set of coordinates, he even lets himself grin a little. Things were, for the moment, looking up.

 

“What have you got now,” Zeb mutters, squatting behind a fuel canister. He’s hardly hidden, but he feels more comfortable listening to Kallus’ messages when no one else is around. And with all the trouble with Chopper and the new base, he hadn’t had a chance to listen to his new recording.

_“Of course, that’s hardly of any interest to you. I apologize: I have been looking into the planet and have become… frustrated with how little information there seems to be. But in my search, one of my informants came across a smuggler who may be of some interest to you. He has come into possession of a significant amount of fuel and is looking for a buyer. You have the distinct advantage of appealing to their sympathies, as I suspect they are displeased with the Empire’s own black market dealings. They come from Corellia, and can often be found there. I have no doubt that should you come, they will find you from there. Good luck, and try to stay out of trouble."_

“Great. More smugglers,” Zeb mumbles, clambering to his feet again. As he leaves, his muttering prevents him from hearing the slight whirring of a droid emerging from the darkness on the other side of the cargo bay.

The droid beeps and trills with amusement. Their companion, hand on the top of their shorter friend, says “oh dear” in the closest approximation a droid can make to worry.


	5. Chapter 5

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“Another message already?” Zeb asks Dex, surprised. It’d only been a few days: they’d only just arrived on Corellia to meet up with their smuggler.

“I do have other things in my life other than you,” Dex says, rolling their eyes. “One of Elyan’s people of interest has popped up in this space port.” 

It takes Zeb a moment to realize she expects him to know who she’s talking about; it’s the name Kallus has apparently given her. It’s amusing to think that he knows more than she does about her boss. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

Not too far behind them is the Ghost: he has been left behind to watch the ship, since it’s clear that Chopper cannot be trusted with it. If he wasn’t so bored, he wouldn’t have followed their familiar figure towards the market street. In the busier Corellian streets, they blended in easily with the massing smugglers and merchants.

“Not anyone I know, I hope.”

“No clue. Some Togruta from the Outer Rim.”

Dex turns at the same time Zeb rolls his eyes skyward. With his luck, he knows exactly who Kallus is looking for. As Dex scans the crowd of beings passing by, Zeb considers his options. After everything Kallus has done for him, the least he can do is give him a bit of advice.

“I think I know who you’re looking for. Could you pass on a message to K-...  Elyan for me?”

“Yes?”

“Let the Togruta go. It’d be a lot more trouble than either of you are prepared for.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Grabbing onto their arm, Zeb forces Dex to turn and see how serious he really was. “Tell him to forget about the Togruta. I mean it.”

Dex removes his hand and drops their hood again. “I will tell him. You better not get me in trouble for this,” they mutter.

“You won’t regret it."

It’s just his luck that Ahsoka Tano is standing by the loading bay with the others when he gets back to the ship.

“Zeb! What happened?”

“Saw some troopers coming by. I already got recognized this month: didn’t want to risk it.”

“Scared?” Ezra teases.

“You wish.”

“Ahsoka has some news for us. Come on.” Kanan waves from the top of the ramp for them to come on inside.

Whatever news she has, it’s Jedi business and everyone except Kanan and Ezra go to the cockpit to give them space. Chopper follows close on his heels the whole way, cackling occasionally and rolling around to trip him as he goes.

“What is wrong with you today?” Zeb snaps, pushing them away. Sabine snorts with unsympathetic laughter as she goes into her room.

Chopper makes another laughing beep. They’d been acting strange ever since they’d picked up the new Nav droid on that cargo ship. Zeb suspects the two droids had been secretly communicating on the com channel when everyone was asleep.

As Chopper makes another sharp turn to trip him, Zeb narrowly avoids him and smacks straight into the Jedi he’d most wanted to avoid.

“Zeb,” she says, as calm as ever.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there and _someone,_ ” he glares pointedly at the droid, “has been acting funny all day.”

“This droid certainly has a mind of its own.” She pats the top of Chopper’s dome and somehow doesn’t get an angry noise in response. Then, she turns her full attention back to Zeb. “I heard about what you did for us. We’re all in your debt for finding us a reliable informant.”

He looks away, avoiding that piercing look Jedi seem to favor. “It was dumb luck.”

“It was more than luck."

He rubs the back of his neck and continues to look away, the silence turning awkward until she breaks it again.

“There’s something wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know.” He hears her move but doesn’t turn to look. “You’re hiding something. I can feel it.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” he protests, aware even as he’s saying it that she’ll never believe him. He can practically feel her reading his mind and seeing everything he’s trying to hide.

After some more silence, she says, “it’s not dangerous. You can keep your secret Garrazeb.”

He nods jerkily and hurries out of the room to his bunk, leaving Ahsoka alone in the corridor with Chopper, who makes another set of amused beeps. It draws her attention back to him.

“It sounds like you might know what he’s been up to that’s making him so nervous.”

Chopper gives several sets of bleeps and a negative nod of his dome.

“Really?” She kneels down next to him so they are at eye level. “Now what are you hiding Chopper?”

Chopper makes a few longer beeps, and begins playing a recording. The volume is lowered so that she can hardly hear.

_ <<”He has come into possession of a significant amount of fuel and is looking for a buyer. You have the distinct advantage of appealing to their sympathies, as I suspect they are-”>> _

“Turn that off before someone hears,” Ahsoka demands. Chopper complies, but not without complaint. “Now where have I heard that voice before?”

Chopper spins their dome around several times and beeps almost mockingly.

“Kallus?” She stands up again, and looks towards Zeb’s room. “What are you trying to do Zeb?”

Shaking her head, she goes into the cockpit.


	6. Chapter 6

_ << Reports indicate that the Rebel Alliance has found itself a base. Finally. I must admit that I am impressed if only because none of my sources have been able to find you. Poor Dexla is furious, though she won't admit it. Keep up the good work.  _

_ I hope you've chosen somewhere suitable.  None of your Rebels are trained in these things: don't understand anything about defection constraints and proper incentivisation. It's a wonder you’ve lasted this long.”>> _

Zeb does not know anything about incentiv-whatever it was Kallus was talking about, but he understands giant spiders. However excited he might have been at the beginning about this new base, he is far from impressed now. And Hera- on a normal day, he'd trust her with anything. But with Kanan gone he wasn't quite so sure anymore. 

Only a few days after the Jedi have gone, Zeb goes to Hera with a new set of coordinates from their informant. It's difficult to convince her he doesn't need backup on this trip - Sabine has to drag her back to her duties, and Zeb doesn't blame her. She could probably use the distraction. But eventually she agrees to let him go with only Chopper as copilot. It's an unsatisfying compromise on all sides. 

Somehow, Chopper manages to get his new friend AP-5 to join them, despite the droid’s obvious hesitance. The two of them make such a racket bickering in the cockpit that Zeb gives up and goes to his room for the remainder of the journey to the Outer Rim. 

Their meeting spot is not a bar this time: Dex is waiting for him outside of a large, official-looking building in a shaded garden. Their cloak blends into the dark greenery like camouflage. Zeb isn't acknowledged as he sits down beside them. 

“I would have picked a nicer place, but I'm currently a little busy and don't have a lot of time.

Ignoring his immediate thought - those bars are apposed to have been nice? - he shrugs and gets to the point. “Another tape?”

“Maps. With that new imperial nav droid you guys stole, you shouldn't have any problems using them.”

“Nothing gets past your lot, does it?” He asks, not even entirely surprised. 

“Rarely. Unless it's some traveling Togruta mechanic who is actually some kind of Jedi. Kriss,” Dex sighs loudly and turns out face Zeb for the first time. “Thank you for the warning.”

“She's not the sort you want to get on the bad side of.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

They lapse into silence, Dex staring intently towards the building across the road as cargo speeders rush past. In one hand, Zeb holds something in his palm. He taps it on his knee,  nervously, until Dex notices. 

“What's that?” they asks warily. 

“A tape. It took me a while, but one of the pilots keeps one to send messages to their wife, and they showed me how it works.”

“You want me to deliver a tape? Of what?”

“Nothing dangerous,” Zeb promises. It'd taken some practice, but he'd managed to put together a messy description of their new base, including everything he thought might be helpful. Because Kallus was right:  most of them didn't know the first thing about creating a Rebellion. Fighting, he knew that, but everything else - Kallus had sounded like he really understood all of that. 

He hadn't told Hera and Sabine about his plan to tell Agent Kallus about their base. Even though he hadn't mentioned anything like a location or name, there was always a risk that Kallus would figure it out it. He would figure it out, Zeb corrected himself. There wasn’t much of a doubt about it. But he actually kind of trusted him to know. 

So he handed it over to Dex with no further explanation. Kallus would know what to do with it. And he ran away back to the ship before he had a chance to regret it 

 

 

 

Dex Vern sat outside of the capitol building until sunset, when a group of Imperial officers exited. She followed one all the way to the barracks, letting herself through the window on the ground floor. She waited there until the owner of the room returned moments later. 

The door opened and Kallus entered his temporary home. He glanced at her as he walked towards the closet, removing his jacket as he went. “What do you think you're doing here?”

“Your Rebel gave me a present for you.” She tilted her head towards it.

The tape was quickly snatched off the table - the first sign of some agitation at this intrusion. Kallus held it for a moment before tossing it on the bed. 

“Did he say what it was?” 

“No. I'm going to be honest: I thought this was a real stretch. I didn't think he'd actually be stupid enough to give you information. And for what? All in exchange for some useless intel.” Dex grinned in amusement and pushed off her hood so her boss could see it. 

“No faith in me, after all these years, Dexla?”

“I call it like I see it.” She sat up and went back towards the window. “See you next time. And congrats on your success.”

She leaves. Kallus, after a few minutes of silence, takes up the recording and hides it in his traveling bag for the night. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on these for a while, but I want to put everything up now. Sorry for kind of spamming you. 
> 
> This is where shit gets real. Be ready for Clone Wars references, rebel interrogations, surprise guests and, coming soon, our horrible friend Onderon

Somewhere in the chaos of Vader, Maul, and everything else going wrong at once, one problem is traded for another. And better yet, the new problem isn’t Zeb’s. 

The Phoenix Squadron has gone from occasional assistant to full time rebel cell, and that’s fine with Zeb. With an informant and some successful missions under his belt (excusing the one involving Hondo, who never counts), he was starting to become a respected member of the rebellion. It was a feeling he hadn’t noticed he missed from his time as a guard on Lasan. 

In addition to that, Kallus (in the guise of Dex) had been granted full status as Fulcrum, an official rebel informant. Apparently, Ashoka had suggested it before they’d gone… wherever they’d ended up. Transmissions were now sent directly to Chopper Base: no more strange trips to nowhere for him. It felt a little strange to hear Kallus’ voice mangled and encoded after hearing his voice calling Zeb by name for so many weeks. The tone was even different: none of the asides, where Kallus had clearly forgotten himself, and no more dry ‘congratulations’. 

When he thought about it, Zeb realized he was annoyed to be sharing those transmissions with everyone now. He wasn’t a jedi, or a master pilot, or a Mandalorian: it wasn’t often he was singled out, given attention as someone just as important. Without meaning to, Kallus had kicked up his sense of self a little, and without the secret messages to him, Zeb struggled to keep his annoyance hidden from the rest of the crew. 

The addition of Captain Rex to the crew, however short his stay may end up being, was a bit of a help. The clone was a lucky mix of good humor and savvy, with a special talent for distracting the crew from any problems at hand. But after his help with the droid commander, even he seemed low in spirits, and it only got worse when Commander Sato sends them to investigate a possible rebel cell on Umbara. 

“It doesn’t look that bad,” Sabine says, staring at the dark landscape of ink black trees below them. “Wonder why Rex was so against us visiting.” 

“There was a battle in Umbara during the Clone Wars, I think. Maybe something happened?” Kanan suggested. 

“Must be something bad, to send him running away like that.” Zeb has had a bad feeling about this mission since they dropped off Rex in the Mykappo system. Something about the red in the trees makes him want to shiver. But, he volunteers for the team heading into the capitol, just so he doesn’t have to stick by the Ghost and the damn forest any longer than he needs to. 

“What are we looking for?” asks Ezra.

“Word is that the Umbarans are still selling ships and weapons on the black market, even after the Empire cracked down on shipments. Umbaran tech is advanced, so we want to try and bid before anyone else.” 

“And if we don’t?”

Kanan lets his saber poke out of the sleeve of his robe, and quirks a sharp grin. “Then we make sure it doesn’t get into the wrong hands.”

They have reached a market of some kind. Stalls are closely packed and people shuffle quickly from one to the next, eyes always glancing over their shoulders at the passing troopers. The tight, anxious atmosphere means that something has probably happened recently, or is going to soon. 

“This is a bad idea,” Zeb tells them, instincts yelling at him to get away. 

Ezra says, “You’ve already said that,” and is probably rolling his eyes too, if Zeb could see them. 

Kanan makes a gesture for them to shut up as troopers pass by again. Twice in only a few minutes; Zeb curses their luck. Something bad is going to happen any minute. 

“What’s that sound? Is your comm going off?” 

There is a sound, now that Zeb is paying attention, coming from one of his pockets. A few of the Umbrans are looking at him warily now, and he grabs it as quickly as possible to turn it off. 

“You were the one worried, but now you’re trying to get us killed,” Kanan says, pushing them into a side road before anyone can pay too much attention. “Answer it.”

“It’s not my comm.” 

In his pocket, left out of laziness more than anything else, is the little tablet Dex had given him to transmit coordinates. But it had never made noise before, and never shown coordinates blinking like that. 

“It’s- Fulcrum.”

“Contacting you?”

There was no need for Ezra to sound so incredulous: after all, they’d contacted Zeb first. Trying to put the location together in his head, Zeb realizes why it looks so familiar.

“They’re here!”

Kanan does not look or smell pleased. “Here? Why are they on Umbara?”

“I don’t know, but they’re trying to contact me. Something’s happened.”

At that very moment, a deafening explosion echoes through the marketplace. 

Ears still ringing, Zeb takes longer to put his head together because of his heightened senses. Once he realizes what’s happening, Kanan is already talking to Hera back on the Ghost. 

“- what’s happening, but we should probably find out.”

<< _ And Fulcrum?>> _

Ezra looks over at Zeb, and Kanan probably is too, mentally at least. “Zeb can find out what’s happened and report back to us. We can’t know what to do without more information.”

_ <<Copy that Spectre One. I’ll go tell Commander Sato the bad news. Ghost out.>> _

“You copy that?”

“I’ll find Fulcrum, report back to you.”

“And quickly. I have a feeling we’re going to need to get out of here soon.”

The two Jedi wave and run off into the mess of people streaming through the streets, away from the cloud of odd colored smoke. Sighing, Zeb takes out the tablet again and reads the message accompanying the coordinates. 

<<Very bad. Need pikt ut>>

Either Dex was drunk, or something had happened to make them type like a Hutt. Hurrying down the street, against the crowds, and peering into every open doorway, Zeb tries to find something that looks like a cantina. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to start looking elsewhere. 

Only a block or two away from the center of the explosion, with his mouth covered by a scrap of cloth from some merchant’s stall, Zeb stumbles into a cantina with just the sentient he was looking for. On the floor. Covered in blood from their head. And, of course, with an angry looking thug standing over them, blaster in hand. He had heard their shouting from down the street.  

“Who told you where to find us?”

“No one- OW. No one told me anything. I followed your friend to some landing pad, and then to the Ktar. That’s it.”

“Who told you to follow us?” The thug presses the blaster to Dex’s temple, inspiring a wince of pain but no fear in the smuggler’s eyes. 

“I can spot a rebel creep on my own, thank you.”

“You’re a rebel?” Zeb doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but he’s so surprised it just comes out, spoiling the element of surprise. Both humans look up at him in surprise. 

Dex looks more astonished than Zeb had ever seen them. “It’s you.”

The blaster doesn’t waver, but the rebel turns their attention to Zeb. “What’s it to you?” 

Dex has already gone from astonishment to calm again, turned away from Zeb. It didn’t look like Dex was expecting a rescue: too bad Zeb was going to go ahead with one anyways. 

“What do you want with them?” he asks. 

“Why? You got business with her too?” 

It doesn’t sit well with him, but Zeb is already pulling out his bo rifle and whacking the human out with it. They fall to the ground in a heap: why don’t wear helmets if their heads are so fragile? He’ll probably never know. 

Pulling themselves up, hands braced on a broken table, Dex spits out blood and wipes their face. “I didn’t mean to send the message to you.”  

“You’re lucky you did.I was already in the city when I got it.”

“Elyan would have come for me. He always does.” Dex looks petulant, like Ezra on inventory duty. “What are you fools doing on Umbara? It’s not safe.”

“Looking for weapons, same as you I imagine.”

There’s a snort that Zeb, confused for a moment, realizes is laughter. Dex glances over to face him, still leaning heavily on the table to keep upright. “The empire already has control of the weapons here. Elyan likes to let some black market dealers sell on the side, to disguised imperials of course.” 

“Of course.” Shouldn’t have been a surprise: Kallus had always been a few steps ahead of them. “Then why are you here?”

It occurs to him, belatedly, that they were probably looking for that rebel he’d saved them from. Maybe not his best idea, but it wasn’t worth thinking about too much. 

“There’s a young human that Elyan wanted me to find, who has been working with this group of rebels for some time.” 

“Did you find them?” 

“Technically. Would you mind helping me to my feet? My pride disappeared a little after I got ambushed.”

The strong stench of blood in the room, coupled with the smoke wafting from the explosion nearby, apparently was blocking his ability to sniff out Dex’s wounds, which were likely worse than they looked. Zeb stepped forward and pulled them to their feet, letting them lean heavily on his arm. In return, they got what looked to be a toothy sort-of grin. 

“So where is the human?”

“Prison. I came here to find out which one, but they were not interested in being helpful.” 

“What does your boss need him for?”

“Who knows. Turn left here, it’s faster,” they gesture  with their head as the two of them hobble through the door. “First job I ever got from Elyan was following some group of kids he was watching. Gotta go back every few cycles, find those idiots, and bring back proof they’re okay.” 

Well that certainly didn’t fit into any idea Zeb had ever had of Kallus. Didn’t make sense to send his agent off to watch over some random kids. Unless, of course. 

“They his?”

There’s no real reason for Zeb to feel relieved, but Dex rolls their eyes and scoffs, and he feels a shift in his chest, like a weight’s just been lifted. 

“Impossible. Different species.” 

And that just made the whole thing more confusing. Their conversation inevitably paused when the smoke from the explosion got thicker, and they had to cough and bump their way through the streets. Far off in the distance, Zeb could hear imperial blaster fire, but for once his luck came through and it seemed to be coming from the opposite direction from where they were headed. It gave Zeb too much time to wonder, as they trudged their way back through the city: what made Agent Kallus care so much about a bunch of kids? Imperials weren’t even supposed to like non-humans, though Kallus had shown a degree of free thinking in that regard in the past. It all just seemed too reckless, to risky, for someone like Kallus. 

Then again, Kallus was now a rebel informant. So maybe he’d misjudged him on that. 

“Take this.”

Startled, Zeb blinked and realized that a scrap of green cloth was being waved in his face. Dex had pulled it off their head, revealing their face for the first time, and was clearly waiting for him to respond. 

“Thanks, but I have this,” Zeb waived his scrap of merchant cloth. Admittedly, it too small to use comfortably, stretched oddly in his hands, but Dex had never taken their headscarf off before. 

“Your nose is highly sensitive. I doubt the smoke is doing you any good, and I need you fit to fight if necessary.”

A weak excuse, but Zeb took the cloth and held it against his face. The scarf was thicker than it looked, and blocked a lot of the smell. They started to walk again and, thank heavens, they got out of the city without getting shot. 

  
  
  
  


“I don’t like this.”

“It doesn’t matter if you like this Ezra,” Kanan said, not for the first time. He did not sound like he disagreed though. 

Dex looked surprisingly uncomfortable, perched on the cot in the medical bay. It was hard to tell if they were putting on an act, or genuinely frightened. The spines behind their ears were twitching nervously, at least. “You can drop me off at the next planet. I’m fine on my own.”

“I know that you want to leave, but you have to understand: we were told that you were Fulcrum. We’re all a little confused right now.”

If Zeb had been smart, he would have come up with a plan before getting to the Ghost. But Zeb had never been called smart, and now everyone was angry with him. 

“I thought that we were supposed to protect our informants,” he protested. It would have been easier to acknowledge his mistake, but he didn’t feel like he’d made one. Keeping Kallus’ identity from the rebellion was likely the only thing keeping him alive. 

“You lied to us. You told me that she was our spy, but now you’re saying it’s someone else? What else have you been hiding?” Kanan asked, no longer pretending to defend Zeb. 

“You know I wouldn’t lie unless it was the only way. I wanted to tell you, but … I can’t.”

Ezra threw up his hands and stormed out of the room - taking it personally, for some reason. Sabine was not as dramatic, but left a few moments later. Kanan at least looked away and pretended to be doing something at the desk. 

“What are you going to do with me?” Dex asked. They were looking at Hera, rightly guessing she was in charge of the group. 

“It depends. The decision is out of our hands. You’re not imperial, so there’s a good chance you’ll be let free in a few days.” 

“It doesn’t matter now. Now that you know me, I will be dismissed anyway.” 

Hera didn’t frown, but their smell and their lekku’s slight twitch indicated that they were not too happy with how things had ended up. Zeb wasn’t either. As Hera left for the cockpit, he was stuck with Dex, the last person they wanted to see right now. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think-”

“You didn’t.” Dex cut him off, voice calm and firm. “But it was my livelihood or my life. I chose my life, and I thank you for it.” 

Zeb does not say ‘you’re welcome’, because he would not mean it. “Do you have some place to go?” 

“Once I’m freed, I’ll call up Nik and ask for a pickup. Nik’s my co-pilot,” Dex explains. 

“I didn’t know you had a co-pilot.” 

“Nik usually stays on board. They get self conscious going planetside.” 

“Right. We’ll I’m glad you’ve got someone looking after you.”

“You’re a softie. Under the armor and claws you’re a tooka. A stuffed one, too.” 

“I’ll have you know that I was captain of the guard on Lasan,” Zeb said, for once amused by the comparison. 

“It’s always the tough ones who surprise you. Elyan is like that.” 

Surprised, Zeb gaped and Dex did not notice, glancing at their feet for some reason. Apparently finding what they were looking for, Dex looked up again and on their face was genuine confusion. 

“I gave Elyan the recording about your base, and I thought that this was what he’d been waiting for. All of this had been a setup for you to give him everything of your own free will.” Zeb’s breath caught in his chest as Dex stared, and stared, and finally continued. “He has done nothing with it. I- I don’t think he wants to.” 

There is nothing that makes sense. He starts to try and put words to his thoughts but only gets out a weak, “He-.....”

Dex pulls their one uninjured leg up, bent at the waist so they can lean against it. It’s a pose Zeb recognizes - the Pallen were known for curling their legs when they sat, balanced on the edge of their seat. Dex had never done so before because it would reveal too much about who they were but now, they curled up on their bed without hesitation. “He has really joined your rebellion, hasn’t he? I mean, really… joined. The rebel children, and the research… it’s real.”

“I guess so.”

“I don’t understand.” It was said so bluntly that there was no doubt they meant it. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s a strange thing to say, but Zeb really is sorry for Dex. Somehow, he feels responsible for the whole thing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all still in for the ride. Coming soon is: references to Saw Gurerra, a surprise guest, surprise chess, and a very unpleasant return to a planet no one has fond memories of - Onderon. Keep in mind, in this story, 'Ghosts of Geonosis' is the last episode with contents I'm going to reference or keep. I may borrow ideas from new episodes, but it's going fairly speculative. For example, the Mandalore plot isn't included. 
> 
> Oh! And transgender droids. Come back for that.


End file.
